Elastic heart by Sia

You did not break me, I'm still fighting for peace, I've got thick skin and an elastic heart but your blade it might be too sharp, I'm like a rubber band until you pull too hard, I may snap and I move fast but you won't see me fall apart cause I've got an elastic heart.

I blocked Libby's number on Wyatt's burner phone, cleared the call history and put it back where he left it. I spent the next month making connections between Beatrice and every interaction with my stalker. I've came to the conclusion that she's a mean girl, not a stalker. 

I haven't heard from my stalker since before summer, it's now December 23rd and I've been on edge every day since. I know whoever it is hasn't given up, they're just waiting until my guard is down. I'm almost 100% certain now it's Maddie. It has to be. Every sign leads to her. 

I lock my bedroom door with all the locks, same with the window and the bathroom. I draw my curtains and start running through my ballet. I've got the showcase tomorrow, but frankly it's the least of my worries at the moment. 

I'll be broadcasted live in front of the whole world, the audience is filled with the richest of celebrities and agents. After I dropped my last agent in suspicion of her stalking me and working to kill me, I guess this could be a great opportunity. This is all I've ever dreamed of, and I've joined record books by being selected 3 years in a row. To be chosen 1 time is a huge honour, but 3? It's beyond anything ever. But standing in front of such a huge quantity of people knowing at least one of them wants me dead is making my anxiety flourish.  

I run the dance until my feet go numb, until my vision blurs. I finally allow myself to stop, opening the curtains and being met with the deep glow of the moon. Then my eyes jut down to something that catches my eyes. A neon yellow sticky note, stuck to the outside of my window. 

I gnaw at my lip, slowly unlocking every padlock on the window and finally slipping my arm out to snatch it, very quickly snatching my hand back inside and locking every bolt until I'm satisfied. I crawl to the corner of my bed so I can have eyes on all of my room before opening the note. In messy handwriting, written like a ransom note, is a message that makes my shoulders tense up and a cold chill run over my body.

Think you know who I am? Just ask. But be careful..

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. This is happening. I'm confronting Maddie. I'm going to tell her I know. I lift my pillow, grabbing the huge kitchen knife stored under there at all times. 

Slipping the knife into my sweaters pocket, I give myself a shake and finally walk into the corridor after unlocking my door. 

I stalk very slowly towards her room. Be careful. What could that mean? Was that a threat? It had to be. She's going to try and kill me. But I trust my skills. I know I can fight her off. I know I've trained for this — but she also knows that. She's been watching my every move. She knows my skills, she knows my strengths. 

I burst her door open, tossing the note at her. She's on her bed texting. She furrows her brows up at me, staring at me in confusion. 

"I know it's you." I state firmly. She opens the note, cocking a brow with a smirk. "Got yourself an admirer?" She teases. 

"I've got myself a stalker. And it's you. I know what you've been doing. You've been the one making all those calls pretending to be my dead ex — probably used a voice changer or ai?" I theorise, not letting her get a word in before I commence. "Last thanksgiving you were in the house and threatened me. You through a brick through the coffee shop window, covered me in shards of glass. You fucked up the chair I was dancing on at last year's showcase. You- you holy fuck you were the one who put that tie in my room so Grayson thought I cheated on him!" I realize with disbelief. 

Everything starts to piece together mentally and I realize it all makes sense.

"When Hayden drunk kissed me at that party and there was a photo? That was you. You took it, you posted it! And the brick you through at the coffee shop window with the qr code in invisible link leading to a website of photos, video and audio recordings of me! You've been watching me constantly!" I scream.

"You turned the lights out when I was dancing and made me fall! You put that bloody knife on my pillow! And then when I drunk dialled Grayson and got a text saying 'careful what you say, i'm listening' I walked outside and I saw you!" I yell, finally clicking everything into place. 

"Paris calm down." She stands up, walking slowly towards me. I reach into my pocket, twisting my fingers around my knife. 

"Go to bed." Maddie says calmly, reaching for her phone. "So you can kill me? You'd like that wouldn't you." I growl. 

"Okay I'm not going to hurt you-" She starts. "Not now. But when?" I feel my knuckles going white with the tight grip on the knife. 

"Well if I'm gonna kill anyone I'd at least like to wait until after I've danced at a life changing televised event!" She screams. 

"So I have until tomorrow night?" I clarify shakily. "What? That is not what I said! I'm not going to kill anyone. What the fuck kind of drugs are you on?" She gapes. 

"You're insane." I grit. "Only one of us is screaming about killing people." She hisses. "Tomorrow night. After the show. It's you and me, okay? Nobody else. Whoever wins, wins. This ends now." I practically scream at her. 

She slowly steps towards me, urging me out the door and slamming it shut on my face. I get back to my room, locking the door once again and ultimately having a panic attack. 

I write a note, slipping it under my pillow, addressing everything that I know, and stating if something happens to me it's her fault. 

I don't sleep, I just pace my room, knife clutched in my hand in case she tries something. I camp out in my room until call time for the show. I drive there and lock myself in my dressing room after searching every corner and air vent. 

If she tries something here, I'll be ready. 

I change into my white leotard, slicking my hair back into a bun, drowning myself with hairspray. I begin to slowly apply some makeup to my tired face, hoping to cover the endless bags beneath my eyes.

A knock on my door causes my hand to instinctively reach for the knife in my bag. 

"Come in." I call, making sure I stay perfectly still as the door creaks open. 

Bouncy brown curls enter my room, carefully closing the door behind her before finally turning around and smiling widely at me. 

A glamorous red mini-dress, sparkling gorgeously in the light. A small 'T' charm dangles over her upper thigh. She looks flawless. With a tight bodice and only one strap, everything about her screams luxury. Her lips wear a bright red color, matching jewellery all over.

"Skylar Anguelo DiCambello." I state. Not a question, nor an answer. 

"Paris Riley Rooney." She nods in return, her fading British accent crisp, approaching me and winking one of brown eyes at me. 

"And you're here why?" I ask carefully. I know now it's Maddie, but I can't be too sure about whether she has accomplices or not. And Skylar DiCambello has no apparent reason to be here. 

"To see you of course." She shrugs slightly guiltily. I don't remove my hand from my bag quite yet. "It's invite only. And no offence, but only celebrities get invites. I mean, are you designing outfits for any of the dancers?" I say harshly. She smiles with humour, running a hand through her soft hair. 

"I'm off duty tonight. I'm here as someone's plus one." She tries to suppress the grin on her lips but it slips through joyfully. "Someone as in?.." I gesture for her to go on.

"Theodore Winston DeLoughrey.." She explodes in a grin. It's infectious, the way she squeals with excitement. 

"Wow so you're serious?!" I smile. "We may be something along those lines.." She trails off. "His Mom made this dress!" She adds, too happy to contain it. 

"You look gorgeous!" I praise, admiring her stunning outfit. "So his Mom's a big fashion designer? You think she'd like.. sign you or whatever?" I ask. 

"Well I only met her at Thanksgiving. I told her I design too and she told me she'd make me a dress for this 'event'. It was only last night that Theo told me this was the event in question. Theo said he'll suggest to her that she employs me if I 'play my cards right'." She laughs. 

"Play your cards right?" I repeat with a cocked brow. "He said he wants to marry me." She giggles. "You're kidding?! What did you say?" I gape. "I said no, of course." Skylar shrugs. 

"You turned down Theodore DeLoughrey?" I scoff in disbelief. "He asked me with a ring pop randomly on a Tuesday. I said no because I thought he was joking. Since then he's been trying to win me over by upping his game every time. On Thursday it was a flashmob, and by Saturday he had a plane in the sky spelling out 'this good enough?' I said no. I need to see how far he'll go." She snorts, placing her bag down and leaning against my vanity. 

"Looks like you've found yourself a keeper." I smile, thinking about Grayson. Would he ever be in a flashmob for me? Would he spell it in the sky for me? Would he even want to? Not that he would now considering we broke up, but more so would he have in the past. 

"I can see the cogs turning. And the answer is yes. He wants to marry you." Skylar tells me. "Huh?" I blink. "He gave you that promise ring, right?" She reminds me. "We broke up." I clarify, realizing she must not know. "And yet you're still wearing the ring." She comments, gesturing to the ring on a chair around my neck. 

"I forgot to take it off." I clarify. "No you didn't." She says plainly, instantly catching my shit. 

"Okay when did you start the whole psychoanalyse-everyone thing?" I furrow my brows. "Theo's studying psychology. I pick up on the way he reads people. Does it to me all the time. I hate it." She scowls.

"Well stop. The ring is my good luck charm. But if it means that much to you, here." I growl, pulling it off and stuffing it in my bag. "Well now you don't have luck." She shrugs. "Your funeral." She tuts with a smirk. 

I don't allow myself to dwell on that. That wasn't a threat. It was merely a coincidence.

"I should go. I'm on in like 10 minutes." I state, she nods, but approaches me before walking out. "Red." Is all she says. I blink in confusion. "Red lip stick." She winks, walking out and clicking the door shut behind her. I turn around at the 4 lipsticks I had sprawled out on the vanity, applying the red one as advised, not without checking to see if she'd somehow drugged it.

I make my way to the wings, shaking head to toe with not just nerves for dancing in front of so many people, but also because any one of them could be my stalker, anyone or even everyone. What if every single person in the audience is there just to mess with me. What if this is how I die?

"Now with a contemporary dance to the song 'Elastic Heart' by Sia -  here's Paris Rooney." The announcer says. I take one last breath and walk onto the huge stage, lights shining on me and cameras pointed at me from all over, the audience stretching back for miles. Every single person is just a dark figure. Any one of them. Any of them could be here to kill me.

"Paris is a Junior here at Massachusetts Academy of Dance, but she is only 20. This is her third time performing at The Showcase — making her one of only 2 individuals to get such an honour. The piece she is performing is self- choreographed with the assistance of Professor Yolanda Sphinx." 

I hit my mark and wait for my music. My heart pounds. I focus as much of my mind as I can on this dance. 

The music starts and instantly my body does too. I follow the movements exactly as I choreographed months ago, spinning and kicking and moving my body to hit every mark. 

For once I actually feel the movement. I feel every lyric and beat of the music. I feel it in the pits of my heart. I don't just dance it, I somehow live it. I experience this dance like it's a part of me. 

It brings my pain. Actual pain in my heart because of the connection I build to the song. I dance until everything around me blacks out. I dance until tears threaten my eyes. 

I notice the audiences faces, hit by the lights just enough for me to dissect their faces. They're amazed, in total awe. And then all of a sudden something shifts. 

Confusion floods the crowd. Whispers start and everyone looks shocked. I dance until my heart feels like it's going to bounce out of my chest. 

A figure in the auditorium stands. A tall muscular man. My heart stops, but I continue the choreography. Is that Maddie's accomplice? Is he about to kill me?

But his figure becomes more clear and I instantly recognise him. The body I know better than my own. The body I've connected with on ungodly levels. Grayson.

Why is he walking towards the stage? Is he the stalker? Am I going to die? 

Then his face becomes apparent and I realize very quickly that murder is not on his mind. He's the only one moving. Why is he moving? And why does he look so goddamn horrified. 

I dance. I dance. I dance. 

I kick and I twist, and then I leap. The second I land my leap I position my feet for a sequence of turns. I prep and then I push myself to spin.

And I slip. 

I fall.

No. I didn't fall. I slid.

What did I slide on?

I look around my body at a rapid intensity, trying to get up. But I keep slipping, it's seeping through my leotard. 

What is it?

I touch the puddle formed around me and see it. Blood. 

(a/n. Double update? Ha! Now you have to wait until next week to see what happens next. This was one of the first things I planned for part 4 just so you guys know. Thanks for reading)